Setting: The Station Inn – Nashville, TN

Me: Does anyone want anything?

My Mom: I want a pretzel. You’ll split a pretzel with me, right?

My Dad: Nope.

My Mom: What? Those soft chewy pretzels? You like those.

My Dad: I don’t.

My Mom: Um, yes. You do.

My Dad: I don’t really.

My Mom: Why do you eat them then?

My Dad: You always give me a piece and I eat it but I don’t actually like it.

Me: That doesn’t make any sense.

My Mom: YOU MAKE THEM AT HOME. We used to buy the frozen ones!

My Dad: I like those.

My Mom: THEY ARE THE SAME.

My Dad: No. The ones at home are smaller.

My Mom: It’s the same thing.

My Dad: It’s not. It’s actually very different.

My Mom: FINE. I will have a pretzel. And I will eat it myself.

*fifteen minutes later*

My Mom: (chewing her pretzel) Ooo. It’s like whole grain on the inside.

My Dad: It is?

My Mom: Yeah. See? It’s different from the plain white ones.

My Dad: I’ll try it.

My Mom: Are you serious right now?

My Dad: IT’S DIFFERENT THAN I THAWT. LEMME TRY IT.

My Mom: Fine.

My Dad: (chewing the pretzel) Dat is really good.

My Mom: That’s what I told you earlier.

My Dad: You didn’t say it was whole wheat.

My Mom: I didn’t know it was whole wheat.

My Dad: Well. It is.

My Mom: I know.

*pause*

My Mom: (breaking the pretzel in two) Here. Take half.

My Dad: YOU DON’T MIND?

My Mom: Eat the pretzel.

My Dad: I really like it.

My Mom: I’m going to kill you.

Fin